


Cracks Within the Spark

by elektravondemon



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: But whatever, Grieving, HORNDOGS, M/M, Referenced past character death, Smut, Some OOC, and a normal voice, some of this is crack, some of this is dumb, soundwave has a face, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektravondemon/pseuds/elektravondemon
Summary: Knockout is ordered to repair Soundwave's visor. Knockout is reluctant. Soundwave surprises him by having a face (a very attractive one). Neither are professional about it. Oh, and they fuck.Takes place after 'Triage'. Makes a reference to 'Tunnel Vision'.
Relationships: Knock Out/Soundwave (Transformers)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35
Collections: Transformers Fics





	Cracks Within the Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny bit me back in June. Wrote 1200 words then burned out because I couldn't find a way to bridge the beginning to the end. Then I spent about 10 hours in a day writing the rest. I'm not entirely happy with it but I wanted to get this posted.
> 
> Had a little help from a few people on a Discord I'm a part of so that helped.

_See about repairing his cracked visor, will you?_

No, Knockout had no particular interest in repairing Soundwave's cracked visor. Knockout would have preferred to find Wheeljack and tear off his head fins for causing the cracked visor in the first place. Now, the intelligence officer was in Knockout's medical bay. _Alone._ And the sports car had never felt so awkward.

Soundwave waited patiently in the medbay, allowing Knockout to clean himself up from his subway incident as fast as his shaking servos would allow. Knockout assumed it would be best to skip polishing his armor until his work with the visor was completed.

Knockout froze, wracking his processor. He actually wasn't quite sure how to repair a visor screen as sophisticated as Soundwave's. Most visors would just cover the optics and were a universal fit, easily connecting to a helm. But the third-in-command's visor was made custom. Not just connecting to right above the optics, but made to fit his entire faceplate. That kind of visor had to be programmed for the wearer and would take hours or days of precision.

Does Knockout have days? He'd have to settle for hours. Who knows what Soundwave would look like frustrated?

 _Frag that, who knows what Soundwave just looked like in general?_ Knockout thought, with a gulp. _Well, time to find out, I suppose._

The real question was: Should Knockout be nervous or excited? The red mech decided to go with the former. Megatron was quite the character when he was in a bad mood. But Soundwave in a bad mood? The closest Knockout could remember was when Airachnid wanted to leave their leader in Earth's core and the spy had chosen to make a stand to defend Megatron. Knockout himself said it best; _Watch out for the quiet ones._

Clean and dried, Knockout had made his way into the open medical bay, where Soundwave stood, vigilant as ever. _Why does he have to be such a robot?_ Knockout pulled a datapad from a shelf, scrolling through it. Every medic worth his salt does constant research. Better to be safe than sorry.

The medic looked over at the hacker, noticing how he was being observed with the datapad. The visor remained on Soundwave, until Knockout was ready.

“I apologize, Soundwave,” holding up a servo in defense, “I need to gather what information I can about repairing your visor. Unfortunately, I’ve never worked with that kind before and I’m absolutely certain we don’t possess a replacement on the ship. I want to make sure it’s done right.”

A small, understanding nod was his only response. _He took it well; what a patient…patient._

Knockout approached a drawer nearby, pulling out a few tools. A small solder, to fuse complementing wires. Pliers, to gently pinch said wires before soldering them. A small tube of clear liquid, to seal the cracks. He had discovered that humans developed a substance to disappear cracks in their automobile windshields. He assumed it would be useful one day so he managed to steal a number of liters from a glass repair place. This would be the first time the stuff would be used, however.

Still nervous, the doctor turned to Soundwave, proud his voice didn’t falter. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are, so if I’m able to have your visor…”

Soundwave didn’t move and Knockout feared that sentence upset the spy. He tried to not to fidget and failed. Finally, a slender arm rose slowly, and pointed to the closed door directly behind them. The room was a privacy thing, like if bots needed more invasive checkups and repairs or had to remain in a short-term stasis to heal their wounds.

Knockout looked back at Soundwave, after realizing the unspoken question. “Yeah, we can go in there, if you want,” relieved that he hasn’t pissed off his patient. Yet.

Soundwave stalked towards the door, which opened after sensing his proximity. Knockout gathered his supplies and made his way into the room as well, allowing the door to close. The two mechs stood under a singular light that was dim like the rest of the _Nemesis_.

_Soundwave really enjoys the creepiness factor, doesn’t he?_

They both remained next to the berth until Soundwave lowered himself onto it, posture remaining straight as an arrow and servos resting on his legs, never taking his sight off the medic.

Knockout forgot words existed for a moment, flabbergasted that this was the first time that he saw Soundwave _sit._

Finally finding his processor, the medic set his supplies on the desk next to the berth and sat in the accommodating chair, facing his patient.

“If you value your privacy, I can look away. While I’m very curious what lies behind that visor, seeing it doesn’t—“. An almost inaudible click reached his audios, a very strong sense of excitement and anxiety making its way into his spark.

Delicate digits framed the shattered visor, gently prying it from the outline of his face. Soundwave held it with care, and then looked up at the medic before him, gauging his reaction.

A shocked “ _Wow._ ” How professional.

A visage not used to hiding emotions averted its optics to the side, suddenly bashful. Soundwave’s face was a very dark purple, almost black. Shining red optics narrowed with the rest of his frame. His mouth was very short and pursed, sporting a shy smile.

_Soundwave shy? The slagger’s a hacker._

“Frag, Soundwave,” Knockout muttered, “you’re _hot_.” That’s got to be why he has the visor, right?

Soundwave scoffed, a silent and motionless action.

Knockout sat forward quickly. “I-I mean you were attractive before! But seeing your face just makes you more…charming,” the red mech stopped himself from saying ‘hot’ again. Such a human slang word, it felt weird on his glossa.

Soundwave blinked. No verbal response still.

Knockout tapped his chin. “Not that I’m complaining but why _are_ you showing me?”

Soundwave extended his arms. “Privacy: a luxury. Visor: needs repair.”

Oh, right.

Knockout looked down at the lithe fingers cradling their owner’s visor, then back at the TIC, then back at the visor. Then he reached for the visor cautiously. “I’ll get right on that,” rolling his chair slowly to the desk and depositing the visor with a gentle _clink_ on the desk.

He still saw Soundwave in his peripheral vision while working. It was very hard not to keep looking at him like a distracted moron. He tried to hide it by constantly shifting in his seat, unsure if he should make conversation or just continue to wish for a meteor to strike him where he sat because the nervousness was just too damn overwhelming.

The deep voice that seemed almost auto-tuned, another Earth term, jolted Knockout out of whatever thought process that whizzed through his mind. He didn’t even realize that the crack was now sealed. His servos must have been working faster than his processor could think and was glad his medical skills engaged autopilot. “Knockout: alright?”

The tone was pleasing to hear, especially when the medic heard his name, however it was strange hearing such a casual question from an otherwise stoic bot.

Refusing to turn to face Soundwave again, Knockout almost hit himself when his vocalizer faltered this time. “I’m fine. Just focused.” What a terrible lie.

“Knockout: nervous.” It did not sound like a question this time.

The medic blinked, tasting potential words before spewing them. Then he looked back down at his work, the hairline fractures still visible but not as much as they were before. He gently grasped the edges with both servos and inched closer for Soundwave to view his visor better.

“Yes, I wa – am,” not meeting Soundwave’s alluring optics, nervousness increasing. “To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure if I could repair your visor. Materials are scarce enough as is and you’re the only one on this ship that has something like this.

“Thankfully, humans aren’t completely useless. I used some of their glass repair serum and it seems to have fixed the major damage. I have no doubt that your self-repair systems will finish the rest, at least until we can find a more permanent fix.”

Knockout’s blabbering was interrupted when the spymaster placed a lithe servo on his wrist. Only then did the red mech look up, first at the physical touch, then after a moment he finally looked up into the other bot’s optics. It seemed that Soundwave was also nervous.

“Soundwave: understands. Resources: minimal. Fault: not Knockout’s.”

The red mech was taken aback for what seemed like the hundredth time. _What’s with the third-person thing?_ Not that Knockout particularly minded; it was just unusual.

The entire scenario was unusual. Knockout could list for hours everything that made him uncomfortable about the day’s events and he wasn’t even sure where he could start. Maybe the fact that Soundwave hasn’t removed his servo from his own?

Oh.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

Knockout was not against physical touch, if it did not damage his paintjob. It also depended on who was doing the touching.

Breakdown was always the go-to. Knockout preferred his late lover’s fumbling caresses. The bruiser proved himself to be a fighter more than a lover in the field but in the berth, the blue mech proved himself to be capable of both. And Knockout all but cherished it.

He missed it. He missed Breakdown.

Knockout tried to bite his glossa when Megatron threw it in his face that Breakdown was no longer among their ranks. Adding salt to the wound, the Decepticon leader assigned a less than capable _bug_ to be his bodyguard in New York. What a joke.

Knockout’s vents hitched in sorrow at the memory of his fallen comrade. It was an instant regret because it made Soundwave carefully remove his fingers from the medic’s wrist and glide over to take back his visor.

The sports car grumbled at the loss of contact but hoped the hacker would not notice.

“Knockout: properly grieved?”

Great, he did notice.

Breaking optic contact again, Knockout scoffed indirectly at Soundwave, “No.” No point trying to hide it. Soundwave was the eyes and ears of the _Nemesis_ , after all.

Knockout avoided going into a tirade, not wanting to seem like their glorious leader or like Starscream. No doubt the medic had a few choice words for the two and did not want to risk getting into trouble.

Soundwave continued, “Soundwave: able to assist.”

_‘Assist’? What the frag?_

Knockout stuttered, “W-what? I’m fine.”

Soundwave only blinked once, clearly not convinced. This time, Knockout did scoff at the Third.

The red mech started to turn back to the desk, not wanting to show the brief quiver of his lip plates. The death of his partner affected him more than he cared to admit.

Soundwave gauged his next thought, not wanting to push the medic. But it would need to be said.

“Knockout: not recharging adequately.” Another statement.

Knockout whipped back around to face his superior. “Well, _that’s_ creepy,” he accused.

Soundwave shifted, slightly embarrassed at the admittance, but was quick to explain. “Soundwave: ensures the quality of the state of minds of the troops.”

“Oh, so you’re a therapist now,” was the retort.

“Decepticons: need to be proficient to fight for Megatron.”

“Careful, Soundwave. Don’t let ‘Megatron’ hear you not call him by his proper title,” Knockout quipped.

He bit his glossa, afraid that Soundwave would reflect the same warning. He never questioned the spymaster’s loyalty to the former gladiator. That was proven countless times.

“Soundwave: loyal to Megatronus.” The added syllable surprised Knockout.

So, the TIC was not necessarily loyal to the current leader of the Decepticons but instead loyal to the ideals and cause that Megatronus originally started. It made sense. Soundwave and the former miner-turned revolutionary started the cause together. But why not be loyal to both, one was to wonder.

Knockout had half a mind to correct Soundwave, as a joke, but quickly realized the name was used for a reason. Even bots like Megatron would lose sight of their goals. A lot has happened since the beginning. Soundwave never lost focus, however. Their conversation was a good example.

Knockout relented with a sigh he did not know he was holding in. Reaching a servo to his faceplate, he pinched his closed optics, processor swirling with mixed emotions.

“Out of curiosity,” he started slowly, bringing his servos together in front of him to intertwine. Soundwave watched each movement analytically. “How would you ‘assist’?”

“Soundwave: would ensure proper grieving.”

Two pairs of red optics met again. One pair skeptical, one pair indecipherable. The sports car flexed his claws nervously, while placing an interrogative query, “Have you even grieved before?”

“Yes,” Soundwave’s answer was short and heavy.

Knockout only had just noticed that Soundwave’s way of speaking was more monotonous than his previous answer. This one held emotion.

The medic still held his reservations and could not stop his next question. “Who did you lose?”

Soundwave was the one to break optic contact this time, along with dropping the disguise for his voice, knowing it would perhaps get his point across better. “I…had multiple symbiotes on Cybertron.”

Knockout’s optics widened, speechless for a moment. “Laserbeak wasn’t your only one?”

The purple mech absentmindedly grazed his fingers over his chestplates at the name of his avian spy, whom Knockout just noticed was not present. He assumed that the symbiote was recharging in their shared quarters. They did just have a virus and live grenade implanted in them simultaneously so undisturbed rest was highly beneficial.

“No,” Soundwave replied with an almost imperceptible sad smile. “Unfortunately, they perished early in the war. A reconnaissance mission gone wrong.” Knockout wanted to know every detail but did not pry. He was sure this was too personal for Soundwave as is. The brief snippet given was enough.

The sad smile turned into a tight frown as Soundwave finished. “I have grieved but my spark still aches for them.” He curled his fingers into a fist near his spark, accentuating his statement.

Knockout was silent for a few moments. “Does it ever get better?”

“The pain has lessened some. It helps to have…distractions.”

“Project Iacon probably helped.”

“That, as well,” Soundwave agreed.

“Heh,” Knockout attempted to chuckle, still unsure where the Pit Soundwave was even going with the whole ‘assist’ thing. This time, he pried. “What else have you tried?”

What could Soundwave possibly do to ‘help’ with Knockout’s coping? Sparring? He would lose in an instant, fearing for his paintjob and those data cables. Besides, his match with Wheeljack was gritty and he took down Airachnid in seconds. They could race but a flight engine outruns a grounder engine any day, except for those that lack thrust such as helicopters. They could just continue talking, but he doubted that the Third wanted to have a spark-to-spark. He never heard Soundwave utter a word with his own voice since before they stepped into the back room of the medbay. Knockout was simply at a loss of ideas.

Except for…

“Interface,” Soundwave said casually.

That.

Hearing that word come from Soundwave made his processor glitch. “Come again?”

The purple mech flashed a smirk and Knockout couldn’t stop his vents from whirring. Realizing the double meaning, the red mech’s faceplate started to match his paint.

He really set himself up for that one.

Soundwave stood slowly from the berth. Even with the short distance between them, the lanky mech easily overshadowed Knockout sitting in his chair. The medic gulped, slightly afraid yet arousal spiking.

Feeling small, Knockout preferred bigger bots, of course. He certainly was not picky. A flirt but far from being easy. He liked interface as much as the next bot, but he preferred it with someone he knew, someone he trusted, and someone he loved.

He loved Breakdown. He loved their chaos.

But Breakdown died. That love died with him. At least, it should have.

Soundwave was but a stranger and his superior officer. That sort of relationship was far from appropriate. At least he wasn’t the one doing the propositioning.

Was it even an offer? Soundwave only said interface was something _he_ did to help cope and probably self-service from time to time. Well, Soundwave _did_ offer to help Knockout. Did that mean whatever he wanted as long as they both were comfortable?

Knockout was not sure what the boundaries were. One would never guess that Soundwave approved of casual interfacing or anything casual at all. Knockout even doubted that Soundwave was okay with one-night stands. Trust was a big issue for them both. However, the medic also doubted that they would pursue anything more than a casual fling, were it to happen at all. Neither were ready for such a commitment and it was too soon for Knockout, anyway.

Metaphorically dipping his pede in, Knockout clarified. “So, you want to help me move on by…”

“Partaking in your favored extracurricular activites,” Soundwave said matter-of-factly.

Well, that was vague. The options weren’t endless but there was a broad variety.

“I know you and Breakdown were close,” the Third extended a relaxed servo, invitation now more obvious. “I have no intentions on replacing him or wish for you to forget him. But I believe he would want you to be at your best.

Interface has been proven to improve moods, increase vitals and body functions, and lower stress levels. It is not for everyone. I prefer self-service myself.” Knockout almost choked at the image of seeing Soundwave sprawl himself out like so. How delicious would his overload be?

Soundwave knew exactly what he was doing to the medic. He was not planning to stop until Knockout begged him to. He probably wouldn’t stop anyway.

Finally reaching his servo closer to Knockout’s, assuming he forgot the invitation was genuine. He interlocked their fingers, hesitant but trying to keep up the confident display. “However, I am willing to step out of my comfort zone to help out my compatriots.”

Knockout might've only tested the waters, but Soundwave just did a fragging cannonball.

Knockout reciprocated the touch and allowed himself to be stood up his full height, albeit on wobbly legs. Soundwave still usurped him in height but the no longer hidden lust in the medic’s optics made him a bit weak in the knee struts. Soundwave was surprised how quickly his own arousal was growing. Not that he was complaining.

All the more fun.

Soundwave reached for the red mech’s other servo, trying to illicit a firm response.

The only response, however, was Knockout staring at their conjoined servos and looking back up at the handsome dark purple faceplate with a dumbly muttered, “Okay.”

Good enough.

Soundwave inched himself backwards, leading Knockout to the berth, after making sure the newly repaired visor was left on the work desk. It would be a pain to repair it again, especially with the limited supplies.

The Third sat himself back on the edge and spread his legs just far enough for Knockout nestle in-between them. The doctor complied, somewhat entranced. The heat emanating both of their bodies made them hazy. Their interface panels were barely touching but it was enough to force a groan from the medic while Soundwave just shuddered.

Soundwave led Knockout’s servos to his shoulder armor, holding them to just above the Decepticon insignias. The medic got the hint and managed to muster the strength to keep them there himself and started to explore the other’s chassis. The purple mech responded in kind, placing his servos on the red mech’s waist, starting his own explorations. Starting with gentle caresses on the sensitive armor, Soundwave kneaded against it, drawing poorly held back moans from the mech before him.

Knockout kept faltering, overwhelmed with new yet familiar sensations. It had been a while.

“Soundwave, ah,” Knockout panted, “maybe we should, uh, speed things up a bit? The main medbay is still open to visitors. This is something I do not want to explain.”

Soundwave was in the middle of paying some much-needed attention to the fenders of Knockout’s chestplates. He just had to be paranoid.

Silent for a click, Soundwave sent the mental override to lock the main medbay doors, only able to be opened by Soundwave, Knockout, and Megatron himself, if someone did need medical attention. If it were truly an emergency, they could just pound on the doors.

“We should be good now,” Soundwave continued his assault on the headlights, making Knockout buck and whimper.

Realization hitting him, Knockout chuckled breathlessly. “Ah, kinky _and_ cheeky.” He then punctuated the statement by leaning forward and gently licking the spike on the other’s helm crest.

Soundwave smiled around the glass. He slid a little further onto the berth while keeping his panel near Knockout’s. Unbeknownst to the medic, the hacker released his two main data cables and slithered them around his soon-to-be lover, tendrils stroking sensitive backplates and one cable wrapped itself around the axle connecting to a tire. Back kibble is sensitive on every bot.

Knockout grunted before he could stop himself. “Definitely kinky and cheeky.”

The cables inched downwards, teasingly, coming to a rest on the crimson aft, stroking and squeezing, urging Knockout to continue bucking against nothing. He wasn’t sure when his valve cover opened but he didn’t even realize it was until the undulating tendrils brushed the rim, making the doctor cry out.

Soundwave had managed to pull the catch to the red mech’s spike housing, drawing it out and having it fully extend into his palm. He slowly started to stroke it, pumping it in time of his cable’s tendrils brushing the valve rim. This should honor the request of speeding things along, right?

Knockout’s spike was painfully hard and valve fairly lubricated. He was a shaking mess and it only took a little teasing. He only hoped Soundwave was just as ready. It didn’t seem fair. Soundwave seemed calm, despite him constantly stroking the handsome body in front of him.

Knockout wanted him to crack just like he did.

Grabbing a hold of slim, dark hips, Knockout pulled Soundwave closer, red and gray spike bumping Soundwave’s valve cover, transfluid rubbing over the plating. Like that wasn’t one of the hottest things to be seen.

Both of Soundwave’s panels retracted, equipment betraying the sense of calm that he wanted to show. He was getting off as much as Knockout was.

The crimson mech cooed at the sight before him. A beautiful spike, matching the rest of its owner, stood proud. The purple biolights were pulsing in time of the valve right below it. Knockout didn’t know if he should just sink into that desperate orifice or to climb atop and ride the long, dark spike.

He decided to go with the former. When was he going to get a chance like this again? The kind of chance to make a silent make scream his designation to the skies, or at least the overhead light above them.

Knockout wrapped a skilled servo around both spikes, stroking them in tandem. Soundwave’s head lulled back, exposing sensitive neck cables. Knockout didn’t hesitate to taste them. He sucked, nibbled, and roved his glossa everywhere it could reach.

“K-knockout, please,” Soundwave moaned. Easily one of the most beautiful sounds he heard. How could he deny such a plea?

However, there was a minor issue. While Knockout wasn’t large, by any means, he still had a decent enough size that could do harm if used wrong. A medic still worried for his patients.

Soundwave sensed the medic’s worry. “I prepared myself before coming here. I am ready for you, Knockout,” he smiled, stroking a thumb over the pale faceplates.

Okay, maybe that just became the hottest thing he has heard.

Knockout quickly got over gawking at the mech below him. Soundwave never ceased to surprise him.

Ridiculously long legs wrapped themselves around the small waist and Soundwave braced himself against the berth, lifting his hips to drag across Knockout’s spike, smearing lubricant over it.

Faceplates close enough to exvent onto each other, Knockout tilted his hips and breached the quivering valve slowly, cautious of resistance. No doubt tight as a vice but not as much resistance as the medic expected. Soundwave was true to his word, he prepared himself.

Placing his arms on either side of Soundwave, Knockout set a steady pace. Soundwave wrapped his servos around the charcoal black neck and plucked at the seatbelts on either side.

Heavy grunts and groans filled the air, condensation was dripping down both frames.

The crimson mech remembered the slithering data cables behind him when one started to probe at his entrance, which was still slick from the earlier teasing. Knockout groaned lowly and stuttered in his rhythm. One cable’s claws touched the rim and started to push at it, gently stretching it. The other cable closed its own claws, flattening in on themselves against the head. The rim was loosening enough for the flatter cable to nudge itself into the end of the valve, slowly pushing in, to the rhythm of Knockout’s thrusting. The cable finally ended up in just enough for the valve to grip it on its own. Each time Knockout pulled backwards, the tentacle would slide a little further in, rubbing neglected nodes with every thrust.

Knockout opened his optics, not realizing he squeezed them shut, to see Soundwave’s own optics half-lidded and dark with arousal. A dark purple glossa was slightly sticking out, not withholding the strength to keep it in his oral cavity. Something else Knockout couldn’t resist.

The Aston Martin grunted. “Primus, I’m close.”

Soundwave pulled Knockout’s face even closer, “Me, too.” He tilted his head to kiss the medic, glossas immediately tangling each other and oral fluids effortlessly swapped.

The intruding tentacle has wiggled its way fully into Knockout’s valve during the kiss and it did indeed wiggle, much unlike a spike. It brushed multiple cluster nodes simultaneously and sent liquid fire throughout his entire frame.

Mixing that with the constantly squeezing valve, now more erratic due to impending overload and Knockout couldn’t hold himself back. He roughly fragged Soundwave with no rhythm and shouted some form of the other mech’s name into the prolonging kiss and overloaded. Transfluid filled Soundwave’s valve to the brim, the thrusts slowly ebbing.

The spymaster’s cable remained deep in the medic’s valve, feeling it clamp onto the appendage harshly during the thrashing overload. Seemingly unending transfluid filled him and when he heard Knockout cry out, Soundwave let forth his own into Knockout’s mouth, valve convulsing around the spent spike.

They both collapsed onto the berth, Knockout still half-standing, panting to cool their heated systems. Soundwave winced, feeling Knockout’s wide frame smother him.

Knockout lifted himself on trembling arms and fell to the side of Soundwave, their legs partially hanging off the berth.

“That,” Knockout gasped, “was amazing. Thank you.”

Soundwave looked over to see a dazed and tired smile grace the doctor’s visage

“You are welcome,” Soundwave replied quietly.

When both mechs had stopped heaving from the workout, Soundwave gingerly sat up, rearranging himself to his knees on the berth and bore his optics down into the mech below him.

“Again?” Soundwave asked, somewhat hopefully.

Knockout’s optics shot open and he spluttered, “Seriously?! You just gave me one of the best overloads of my creation and you want to go again?”

The slender mech pretended to think about it, digits reaching out to stroke a silver thigh, massaging it to tease. “Yes.”

“Where does your stamina end?”

“I once fought in the Pits of Kaon.”

So, essentially it doesn’t. It was going to be a great night.

“Ah,” the sportster understanding and a bit giddy with excitement.

Taking it as a cue to continue, Soundwave gripped the thigh he was caressing and yanked to turn Knockout’s entire frame ninety degrees, reversing their original positions. Soundwave settled into the red mech’s legs and loomed over him horizontally.

Knockout moaned at the rough treatment, not expecting it out the normally reserved Third. He needed more.

He arched against the bot above him, spikes grinding against each other again, pressurizing in record time. His valve gushed fresh lubricant, making the hacker purr above him. It was an approving sound, making the smaller mech squirm in anticipation.

“As much as I loved how you fucked me with that tentacle of yours, Soundwave,” the human term perversely obscene and much hotter – it made the TIC’s optics flash so definitely hotter, “why don’t you show me what you’re capable of with that powerful body of yours and _just take me_?”

Soundwave narrowed his optics at the challenge; he never refused one.

He easily slid home into the red mech’s constricting valve, thankfully prepared by his data cable. He immediately set a brutal pace, never faltering.

Knockout half-screamed, hands scrambling at Soundwave’s shoulders and body. He begged to be fragged and that’s exactly what he got.

He never expected such strength to come from the Third but if he really did fight in the Pits, then Knockout was done for.

Soundwave released two more smaller data cables and grabbed Knockout’s wrists, slamming them to the berth above his helm. Knockout hissed at the minute discomfort.

Soundwave briefly paused to let the larger, already-present cables slink around the silver knee struts and lifted the legs upwards, almost folding Knockout in half and sucking the unforgiving spike in deeper into the abused valve.

Knockout’s optics rolled backwards at the new angle, overload approaching quickly. Soundwave noticed the increasing charge and decided to trade speed for force and depth, while keeping a similar speed.

The new rhythm with the aim of his deepest, rarely touched sensors made Knockout convulse against Soundwave. Valve abused and oversensitive, he couldn’t hold the dam together and burst, overload hitting him hard, almost hurting.

Soundwave was fixated on Knockout’s expressions during his overload. It was very sexy to him and he was not able to hold back for much longer. Between the red mech’s almost too tight valve, his blissful expressions, and the fact that he has not had a good frag in an unknown amount of time, he finally crashed hard into overload, body going rigid, his own trasnfluid filling up the sore valve he was in.

Spent and exhausted, Soundwave allowed himself to land next to Knockout, vents working hard to cool their bodies once again.

“I should probably stop putting my pede in my mouth, huh?” came a satisfied mumble from the smaller mech.

“Yes,” Soundwave agreed, “only so you can occupy it by doing something more productive.”

Knockout went slack jawed, then his confidence and arousal started to build once more. “Is that an order, _Officer_?” The Third’s engine rumbled appreciatively.

It was going to be a great night, indeed.

Neither bot doubted that Knockout would wake up without pain within his spark, but it was a step forward.

However, both Soundwave and Knockout would come to agree that if one needed more help “grieving”, the other was only a comm away.

**Author's Note:**

> Microsoft Word was my beta so there may be some things wrong. Feel free to let me know if it bothers you enough.
> 
> Well, I hope it was enjoyable and not shit.
> 
> Love y'all!


End file.
